I think the overall message is, we will live forever because of nanotechnology, but only if the lions don't eat us first. Instapundit seems to be encouraging this notion that if you live in the country, watch out for them thar mountain cats; thar comin' to gatchya! The New York Times, reporting from a city with many more predators than the mountain West, tells the story of Matt Thomas, a 54 year old retiree in silicon-rich Atherton, California, who now spends his time prowling for cats amongst his neighbors' palatial estates. Check out his photo. For those of you who don't get all the best manly gear catalogs in the mail as I do, that is top of the line safari gear he is wearing. This guy desperately needs to go on a real hunting trip so he can relax in old Atherton. What a joke.

I live in lion country. I would be thrilled to see a lion on my local McGinty mountain, where there surely are some, at least once in a while, much more thrilled than the far more probable sight of a teenaged motorcyclist illegally tearing up the rare botanicals. The sight of a mountain lion actually chowing down on a dirt biker? I should not comment, so will only say it's too bad lions are afraid of noise.

A lion was spotted recently by the Singing Hills golf course, about five minutes from my house. My only concern would be that a lion might be hit by a ball. Cars are, often enough.

Maybe a year ago I was out walking the dogs in a patch of scrub that was a lot prettier before the dirt bikers tore it apart. A woman out for a walk addressed me:"At cher trackmekkers?"I did not feel able to comment, so said only "I beg your pardon?""At cher trackmekkers? Yer dawgs?"Ah yes. My dogs. Indeed they were. She had apparently seen their tracks. I was then treated to a description of a mountain lion that had been spotted less than a mile away, only a week before, by this hardy lady's mother in law, or perhaps cousin, or perhaps both. No doubt it frightened Molly the Pit Bill half to death. And I'm supposed to be worried about the lions.

I'm sorry, but the notion that Mr. & Mrs. Software feel prisoners in their own palatial estate -- and can't even let Johnny and Chippy go to the tennis court on their own! -- because of the lion, is just too comical for words. How much do you want to bet Mr. and Mrs. Software are Democrats and know all about how we should handle Iraq. All this, because somebody saw a lion. Oh eek! Somebody call 911, somebody call the lawyers!

If you are really that worried, and you are a zillionaire, for heaven's sake, there are lots of things you can do, besides cowering in your mansion and whining to the Times. Like, buy a couple of big dogs. Like say, a German Shepherd and a Rhodesian Ridgeback. Of course, they will poop all over your three hole golf course, but there's no such thing as a free dog. Of course, having a dog is probably much more statistically risky than lions, because Johnny might step in it, slip, crack his head on the tennis court, and never be the same. Tradeoffs. But lions aren't stupid, unlike some rich suburbanites. They see a couple of big dogs, or more likely smell them, they'll take a detour. Or give your gardener a .45 and tell him to keep his eyes open. Probably not a bad idea anyway.

I have seen a Mexican bobcat (forget the precise name) on my property, many, many snakes, with and without venom, coyotes, tarantulas, and all manner of wasps, bees and ants. Dude, that's why they call it nature. If you tie a bunch of filets around your neck and take lots of solitary walks in the mountains around here (or Atherton), you might, eventually, run into a lion with dinner in mind. Otherwise, you are very lucky if the most you have to worry about is your two darlings getting eaten on their way to your private tennis court. And why are you letting them play tennis anyway? That's a good way to put an eye out.